


Howl: Teen Wolf Drabbles

by Larathia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: tw_drabble, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for me to put the drabbles that get written for weekly(ish) challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watch Your Own Back

It was such a harmless-looking, pretty little plant. _Aconitum vulparia_ , also known as wolfsbane. Long, trumpet-like, drooping creamy flowers. It could lock a werewolf corpse into a particular form, making it easier to avoid murder charges. It could also perform the murder, though since the monkshoods in general were also not healthy for humans that didn't necessarily avoid murder charges.

Allison knew at least four different preparations that could be used against werewolves, now. And, because she understood her family better now, she knew four antidotes too, and another two preparations that worked fairly well in the average human medicine cabinet.

_She almost killed Scott with this._

Allison turned the plant, new-picked, around in her fingers. Vaporized, it was still lethal to a werewolf. And it was much easier for a student to get her hands on than, say, silver.

She didn't tell Scott, but she'd made a few smoke bombs with an aconite based powder, to use as emergency distractions or escapes. She was pretty sure a werewolf that suddenly couldn't breathe wouldn't chase her very far. He didn't need to know. She wasn't going to use them on _him_ , after all.

It's just that it's a dangerous world.


	2. Baby Pictures

The binder wasn't exactly on _display_ , but neither was it out of sight. Clearly old and recently cleaned of dust, it might as well have had a 'Read Me' tag on the cover or spine. And Isaac had nothing else to do, as he'd finished his classwork and Derek was off brooding somewhere, so he opened it up to see what it was.

Biting back the snort of laughter at the first page was instinctive. He turned page after page, fascinated. And, occasionally, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the laughter, because Derek could fill his brooding quota at any time, really. 

There was _no way_ Derek had left this out. He wouldn't be surprised to hear Derek wanted it burned, honestly. Not being a fool, he looked around at the apparently empty room and said, "I know you had to be the one to dig this out, Peter, you can come out now."

Peter Hale obediently let himself be seen, grinning in absolutely false innocence. "What, werewolves can't have baby pictures?"

"Was he _really_ born a puppy?" Isaac snorted. "I thought only alphas could take the full wolf shape."

"Exactly," Peter agreed. "Pups are much easier to care for than babies. And an alpha mother has a choice. They grow out of it, of course, but Derek was an adorable pup, don't you think?"

"I think he'd kill you over this," Isaac replied, grinning. "Who are all these others?"

"Oh, _well_ ," said Peter, with the little wicked smile that said whatever he'd been aiming to accomplish with the album had been achieved. "That one's his mother, this one here was his father - oh, don't mind that one, that's just a cute dog-pup we put on christmas cards for the mundanes..."

It was a most instructive afternoon.


	3. Pledge for the 4th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fireworks"

"Thanks for coming with me," said Allison, somewhat sheepishly. "We'd made plans, but -"

"Full moon," Lydia finished, shaking out the blanket. "I know. He's not exactly good with calendars yet, is he."

Allison smiled. "No, he's usually pretty good about it lately. It's just - holiday. We didn't put it together." She set down the basket, pulled out a bottle of water, passed it over. 

Lydia stretched her legs out on the spread blanket, and accepted the bottle, cracking the seal on it. "Well. I for one am happy to watch the fireworks without any _weirdness_ for a change."

Allison said nothing, but joined her friend on the blanket with a water bottle of her own, looking up at the night sky. The fireworks were just starting. On the one hand, she would have liked to watch them with Scott. On the other, Lydia had a point. The soft _poot_ of the launchers reminded her of grenade launchers, now. The booms sounded like guns, and she hid twitches at the explosions, reminding herself that the sounds were harmless. Preludes to pretty colors in the sky, nothing more.

She made herself smile, lean over to tap her water bottle against Lydia's. "No weirdness," she agreed, a promise to herself as much as anything else, not to let the hunter's life eat up everything else in her existence. The launchers were just launching color into the sky. There was no danger. No magic, no weirdness. It was just a simple celebration. Lie back and watch the pretty colors.

Lydia gave her a 'damn straight' sort of nod. It wasn't her nature to explain herself, but Allison got the impression that Lydia approved, had possibly been waiting for Allison to catch up. She settled back comfortably, as if nothing could deter her.


	4. Blunt, Even, White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Show Me Your Teeth"

_I'm stronger._

All werewolves were, really. Allison knew that. And there were things she couldn't say, not out loud, not to Scott's face. Partly because it had very little to do with the point he was trying to make and partly because they weren't _her_ secrets to share.

Werewolves were stronger. So hunters used wolfsbane, against which strength was useless.

_I'm faster._

All werewolves were. But hunters had cars, ATVs to chase them and keep up. And bows and guns that were both faster than werewolves if used correctly.

("Did you really think that would work?" she'd asked, and then realized Allison had _expected_ her to catch the bolt, and poisoned it accordingly.)

_I have claws._

Allison had a quiver of arrows and a box full of combat-grade heads, poisons to coat them in, grenades and smoke bombs.

Allison had no fangs, no claws, no supernatural speed or strength. But if those things decided the war, there would be no Argents. No hunters. The truth was that hunters did as humans had always done - against werewolves, wolves, bears, lions, tigers, whatever mother nature had deigned to test humankind with.

"I'm _smarter_ ," she whispered, screwing the arrowhead onto the shaft.


	5. Chasing Squirrels In Your Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Bedhead"

"Whooooah," said Stiles, grinning with evil glee even as he reached for his phone. "This belongs in _posterity_ , this is perfect.”

Scott didn’t really register the words, but he did growl at the sudden intrusion of flashbulb. He raised his hands to block the light, and noticed the claws.

Shifting? In his _dreams_?

He didn’t get any farther with his train of thought, because Stiles was laughing the sort of laugh that Scott knew meant Stiles was having a bad idea he wasn’t ready to let go of. “Hey! No photos of my wolf face!”

"Dude. You have _got_ to see this. _Derek_ has to see this.” He stopped as Scott’s wolf face started showing fangs. The claws were in reach; Scott wasn’t _using_ them - yet - but it was a pointed hint.

He turned the phone, with its new photo, toward his friend. “Okay, okay, you can see it first.”

Werewolves, it turned out, could get some _fearsome_ levels of bedhead. The question of how he’d shifted in his sleep could wait. “Oh, _crap_ …”

Stiles couldn’t resist what sounded like a caffeinated giggle. “I told you. It’s priceless.”

"Stiles, if you send that photo _anywhere_ , so help me…”


	6. Ferocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "fierce"

"Do you ever get tired of it?" asked Allison, reaching over the edge of the bed for her bra.  
  
Lydia gave her a Look. "What, sleeping with you? Pretty sure I'd have said something if I were," in a tone that also said, _I know perfectly well that isn't what you meant, but you need to learn to speak clearly._  
  
Allison smiled, accepting the tonal rebuke. "The way the boys think it's having fangs and claws that make you fierce."  
  
Lydia laughed. "Men all think that. Look at Jackson. First place jock, co-captain of the team, so _deeply_ inadequate without fangs and claws we got to learn all about the kanima."   
  
Allison just nodded; Lydia missed Jackson still, at least a little, though she was firm in not talking about it. She couldn't help but respect Lydia's ability to decide a direction, and walk the path without looking back. "But do you ever get tired of it?" she repeated. "Always having to prove yourself."  
  
"It's an easy A," shrugged Lydia. "Why _would_ I worry about it? You can't let other people define you. They're only going to get it wrong."  
  
 _Lydia would know_ , Allison conceded, and kissed her in thanks.


End file.
